It's now four days into my motherless adventures with the kids. Things have gone reasonably well so far. Today I am getting reinforcements. When the kids get home from the education factory, I have an hour and a half before I have to leave for the city. With two business functions, I won't be home until 11:30 pm, so Gramma is coming over for the evening.
When the kids get home, I have to do homework, cook supper, and wash the kids. I knew I was in trouble the minute they walked in. The boy had fallen and had a bloody finger. Looks like the nail is half torn off. It's gotta hurt.
While I'm cooking supper, I ask both kids to start their homework. It's one of those nights when tearing out my eyes would have been less painful. The girl started first by saying she just wasn't doing her homework. The boy was next by informing me that he "forgot" his homework at school. Luckily, I remembered 8 of the 10 spelling words, so we start based on my memory. It went downhill from there. Just as I was about to lose my mind, gramma showed up.
Not showered, I hustle to get ready for a 5:30 meeting in the city. On my way out the door, my kids forget all of the earlier conflicts and happily remind me to stop at a Toys 'R Us before I come home.
I planned on getting their bribe before the first meeting but since I was late, I chose to go after the first meeting and before the second one.
Ducking out of the first meeting with the excuse of my second commitment, I hurried to the mall. This time knowing exactly what I wanted, I ran into the store, picked up the booty and proceeded to a checkout. Setting off an alarm at the electronics checkout, I felt like a sophisticated thief in my suit as a teenager with a nose ring peeked up over a shelf to inform me that I couldn't leave the section without paying for the game.
"No one was at the counter so I figured I could pay at the front counter."
"No. You need to pay for it here"
Settling my indebtedness, I was able to get to my next function without being late. For a brief moment tomorrow, I will be a hero, I think to myself...
Saturday, April 11, 2015
Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 3
Ring-a-ling-a-ling..... Ring-a-ling-a-ling....
The damn dog wants to go outside and pee. Mother Hen attached a bell to the door to train the dog to slap it if she wanted to go outside. The alarm clock reads 5:42 am.
Are you serious? If I get up, I'm not going to fall back to sleep. If I stay in bed, the dog will probably piss on the floor. Faced with a dilemma, I command the dog to "Come". She happily trots up the stairs to greet her awoken master. Once in my bedroom, she is instructed to lay in her bed. If she makes a mess, it will be in her bed, not on my floor, I erroneously think to myself.
As I lay in bed, I am now fully awake. No sense in trying to sleep any further, I get up and let the dog outside so she can do her happy pirouette as she drops a number two on the front lawn.
I'm up so early that I have time to eat breakfast, feed the animals, shower, edit a video and finish a load of laundry that I started the night before. Mother Hen said she did all the laundry on Sunday. Yet Tuesday night, our boy announced that he was down to his last pair of pyjamas. In the clothes hamper, he had four pairs of pants, three sets of PJ's and somehow five pair of socks. Our daughter only had one set of dirty clothes, with no PJ's or dirty socks. Two different kids at opposite extremes. Not understanding the logic behind the quantity of dirty clothes, I shut my mouth and throw them into the washing machine.
At 6:45 am, the sound of an annoying beep is emitted from Darth Vader's chest. With both kids hearing the beeps, they hurry downstairs to eat. No fights over breakfast again. One kid doesn't like the lunch at the cafeteria, so I make egg salad sandwiches. Again, there's no useless banter about the "idontlikes". After breakfast, they rush upstairs, make their beds, brush their teeth and put on clean clothes.
Everything is prepared in advance. My presentation material is already in the car. All I need to do is get child one and child two in the backseat by 8:10. I'm looking at the clock and it only says 7:50. We're rocking. There's nothing holding us back, I think. The dog has gone outside for a second round of blatter relief. She's about to go into her kennel for the day. Both kids are ready to put their jackets and boots on. They don't like wearing mittens anymore, but I tell them that being this early, their hands are gonna get cold. Again, without any arguments, they agree that mittens is the right choice. But D'Angelo informs me that his mittens were left at school the day before.
As I reach for iced water for the commute to my 9 am presentation, I hear a scream. Our boy yelped. Coming back from the garage door, he has tears streaming down his face. His sister shut the door on his index finger. Without the medically approved lips only a mother has the prescription for, I resort to the second best option: ice. I look at his hand and decide the pain is no more than a bruise at best. Grabbing a handful of ice out of the freezer, I hold it against the knuckle of his index finger. Looking into his eyes, I ask if the pain is going away. As he sniffles away a tear, he says it's getting better. Time is ticking. We're now past 8:10. I'm gonna be late. Everything was going so well until the door disaster of 8:05. He then looks at me and asks me if we're still on time.
"Only if we leave right now", I console him.
"Then let's go, I want my walkie talkie".
"Will you wear the crappy mittens you don't like this morning?"
"Yes, but we have to go, I want my walkie talkie".
The bribe has worked perfectly. We all jump into the car and make the trek to the education factory for another day of learning.
With everyone on-time, I was able to show up to my presentation punctually. At lunchtime, once the presentation was completed, I had an appointment to bottle a fine batch of Pinot Noir. I've started making my own wine. Actually, the Brew Shoppe makes it for me. I drop in the yeast to comply with some stupid liquor law. Then after 5 weeks, I show up and put it into my bottles and take my new found bounty home to enjoy.
Today, I am on a tight schedule. The mini-me's are coming home at 2:20 from the education factory. With a 45 minute drive, I have to be out of the Brew Shoppe no later than 1:30. I'm told the bottling process takes 20 minutes, so I arrive at 12:45. Upon arrival, I'm informed the bottle washer is down, but the technician yells out that it will be ready in 3 minutes. Not wanting to waste any time, I pay for a new batch of Shiraz and drop the yeast in the bucket to keep the alcohol police happy. Coming back to the technician about 5 minutes later, he says the machine will be ready in 30 seconds. Laughing and nervous at the same time, I crack a joke that gets everyone laughing about how the technician's time is different from the rest of the world.
Getting the red elixir in the back of the car, I rush to the car to see the clock reading 1:35. With only 45 minutes to get home to greet my kids, I don't have enough time to pick up their bribe at Toys 'R Us. I feel so selfish. I chose my Pinot Noir ahead of two bribes made in China. The monsters are gonna be so disappointed. Rushing home, a thought passes through my head. "If I have an accident on the way home, who's gonna get the kids on the front step of the house? They could be outside for hours."
I make it home as the bus is pulling away. Another potential disaster averted. The kids ask where their bribe is. With my tail between my legs I apologize to them that I didn't have enough time to pick up their toys. I didn't have the guts to tell them I chose bottling wine over going to a Toys 'R Us. Waiting until they were sleeping, I snuck into the garage to get the present I bought for me- 30 dancing ladies dressed in Pinot Noir.
The damn dog wants to go outside and pee. Mother Hen attached a bell to the door to train the dog to slap it if she wanted to go outside. The alarm clock reads 5:42 am.
Are you serious? If I get up, I'm not going to fall back to sleep. If I stay in bed, the dog will probably piss on the floor. Faced with a dilemma, I command the dog to "Come". She happily trots up the stairs to greet her awoken master. Once in my bedroom, she is instructed to lay in her bed. If she makes a mess, it will be in her bed, not on my floor, I erroneously think to myself.
As I lay in bed, I am now fully awake. No sense in trying to sleep any further, I get up and let the dog outside so she can do her happy pirouette as she drops a number two on the front lawn.
I'm up so early that I have time to eat breakfast, feed the animals, shower, edit a video and finish a load of laundry that I started the night before. Mother Hen said she did all the laundry on Sunday. Yet Tuesday night, our boy announced that he was down to his last pair of pyjamas. In the clothes hamper, he had four pairs of pants, three sets of PJ's and somehow five pair of socks. Our daughter only had one set of dirty clothes, with no PJ's or dirty socks. Two different kids at opposite extremes. Not understanding the logic behind the quantity of dirty clothes, I shut my mouth and throw them into the washing machine.
At 6:45 am, the sound of an annoying beep is emitted from Darth Vader's chest. With both kids hearing the beeps, they hurry downstairs to eat. No fights over breakfast again. One kid doesn't like the lunch at the cafeteria, so I make egg salad sandwiches. Again, there's no useless banter about the "idontlikes". After breakfast, they rush upstairs, make their beds, brush their teeth and put on clean clothes.
Everything is prepared in advance. My presentation material is already in the car. All I need to do is get child one and child two in the backseat by 8:10. I'm looking at the clock and it only says 7:50. We're rocking. There's nothing holding us back, I think. The dog has gone outside for a second round of blatter relief. She's about to go into her kennel for the day. Both kids are ready to put their jackets and boots on. They don't like wearing mittens anymore, but I tell them that being this early, their hands are gonna get cold. Again, without any arguments, they agree that mittens is the right choice. But D'Angelo informs me that his mittens were left at school the day before.
As I reach for iced water for the commute to my 9 am presentation, I hear a scream. Our boy yelped. Coming back from the garage door, he has tears streaming down his face. His sister shut the door on his index finger. Without the medically approved lips only a mother has the prescription for, I resort to the second best option: ice. I look at his hand and decide the pain is no more than a bruise at best. Grabbing a handful of ice out of the freezer, I hold it against the knuckle of his index finger. Looking into his eyes, I ask if the pain is going away. As he sniffles away a tear, he says it's getting better. Time is ticking. We're now past 8:10. I'm gonna be late. Everything was going so well until the door disaster of 8:05. He then looks at me and asks me if we're still on time.
"Only if we leave right now", I console him.
"Then let's go, I want my walkie talkie".
"Will you wear the crappy mittens you don't like this morning?"
"Yes, but we have to go, I want my walkie talkie".
The bribe has worked perfectly. We all jump into the car and make the trek to the education factory for another day of learning.
With everyone on-time, I was able to show up to my presentation punctually. At lunchtime, once the presentation was completed, I had an appointment to bottle a fine batch of Pinot Noir. I've started making my own wine. Actually, the Brew Shoppe makes it for me. I drop in the yeast to comply with some stupid liquor law. Then after 5 weeks, I show up and put it into my bottles and take my new found bounty home to enjoy.
Today, I am on a tight schedule. The mini-me's are coming home at 2:20 from the education factory. With a 45 minute drive, I have to be out of the Brew Shoppe no later than 1:30. I'm told the bottling process takes 20 minutes, so I arrive at 12:45. Upon arrival, I'm informed the bottle washer is down, but the technician yells out that it will be ready in 3 minutes. Not wanting to waste any time, I pay for a new batch of Shiraz and drop the yeast in the bucket to keep the alcohol police happy. Coming back to the technician about 5 minutes later, he says the machine will be ready in 30 seconds. Laughing and nervous at the same time, I crack a joke that gets everyone laughing about how the technician's time is different from the rest of the world.
Getting the red elixir in the back of the car, I rush to the car to see the clock reading 1:35. With only 45 minutes to get home to greet my kids, I don't have enough time to pick up their bribe at Toys 'R Us. I feel so selfish. I chose my Pinot Noir ahead of two bribes made in China. The monsters are gonna be so disappointed. Rushing home, a thought passes through my head. "If I have an accident on the way home, who's gonna get the kids on the front step of the house? They could be outside for hours."
I make it home as the bus is pulling away. Another potential disaster averted. The kids ask where their bribe is. With my tail between my legs I apologize to them that I didn't have enough time to pick up their toys. I didn't have the guts to tell them I chose bottling wine over going to a Toys 'R Us. Waiting until they were sleeping, I snuck into the garage to get the present I bought for me- 30 dancing ladies dressed in Pinot Noir.
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 2
I awoke to the sound of the TV pumping out some horrendous noise at 6 am. It was time to get up and work my breakfast magic for a second day in a row. I must have fallen asleep with the TV on last night.
The kids awoke at 7 am, after I had a chance to feed the dog, cat and myself. One kid wanted toast. Can't get any easier than that, I think to myself. The other one wasn't hungry. I've seen this movie before. Where the mom gets upset as the daughter continues to say she's not hungry. And the more the mom insists that the little girl can't go to school on an empty stomach, the more upset the girl becomes. It always ends the same way with two people angry at each other. Not wanting to be the protagonist or antagonist, depending on perspective, I make a conscious decision that the girl will go to school on an empty stomach today if it means avoiding a conflict.
The boy gladly eats his toast making sure not to ingest any of the dreadful crust. He asks if he can have a yogurt and a glass of water. Happy, he plops down and watches the sports highlights from the night before while slurping his vanilla yogurt.
Shit, I forgot. Duke was playing a team with a bunch of white guys when sleep creeped into my head last night. Wondering who won, and forgetting about the stubborn little girl at the breakfast counter, I raced to the nearest chair to get a glimpse of the championship game. Duke won! The only person I know who likes Duke is Joel. Joel was a university friend who liked a lot of the same stuff I did in my early adulthood: sports, alcohol, girls, and raising a lot of shit. Joel and I borrowed a Burger King garbage can one drunken evening. Ripped it right off the pole it was chained to. Some said it was stolen but I returned it three years later. Joel is a university professor now at Eastern Kentucky I think. He must be so happy with his Duke Blue Devils this morning.....
"Can I have some cereal?", a quiet voice breaks my thoughts.
"Sure. Do you know what kind?"
"Frosted Flakes and Rice Krispies".
"Together?"
"Yeah, that's how mom makes them".
"Ok, sure, Frosted Flakes and Rice Krispies coming up".
The rest of the morning was uneventful. The kids went to the education factory to produce new thought synapses while I returned to my home office to work for the rest of the day.
At 3:20, the front door welcomed home two little factory workers. I had a conference call at 6 pm that was going to last 3 hours. With only two and half hours, supper had to be cooked, dishes washed, kids cleaned and changed, I didn't have a lot of time. Oh and then there was the homework. Our daughter is really good at doing her homework alone. But our son hates everything school related except physical education and recess. Homework is like ripping his eyes out. No, homework is like ripping my eyes out. It's that painful some nights. If this was gonna be one of those nights that I'd rather go blind for the rest of my life than live another moment of homework, there was no way I could get on the conference call on time.
Supper is another fight most nights. I have witnessed too many painful "idontlike" moments.
"I don't like mushrooms"
"I don't like tomatoes"
"I don't like onions"
"I don't like cheese"
You can pretty much insert any word after "I don't like" and it will have been relevant at some point in my house.
My parents would have said, don't eat it if you don't like it. But don't ask for anything else after supper. I've tried that angle with my kids before but our beloved Queen Hen has always food blocked me. With the Queen gone, I am in charge. If they pull this "idontlike" crap on me, I'm gonna use the same strategy my parents used. I'm willing to dig my feet in and fight to the death.
The death fight doesn't happen. They eat everything on their plate. They thank me for the great meal and they put their dishes on the counter next to the sink. I'm either getting Punk'd or they are as afraid of me as I am of them. They rush upstairs and take their showers singing their favourite songs. They both happily do their homework and ask if I can set their alarm for 6:45 am for tomorrow. Being early to school tomorrow means they get their bribe I promised them yesterday.
They were angels. They were ready for bed at 5:55 pm, which let me get on the conference call at 6 pm. With everything done, I let them watch TV and play on the iPad. When the conference call started, I warned everyone that I may have to step away at a moments notice if the kids acted up. Halfway through the call, someone asked me what I did to my kids to make them behave so well. Proud as I am, I know that this feeling could be fleeting as quickly as it entered my brain. I'm really not sure what I did to make them behave so well. I know I didn't bribe them on this one, but maybe they aren't the terrorists I've come to love.
Kids went to bed a bit late because the conference call went until 9 pm. Despite that, they still wanted me to set their alarm clocks for 6:45 am, which I gladly did. I walked down the lonely hall to my royal bedroom, minus its Queen, to read for an hour.
As the last words read started to flutter around my head like a butterfly on a breezy June morning, I laid down the book to fall asleep. Day two is in the books, only 13 more days to go...
The kids awoke at 7 am, after I had a chance to feed the dog, cat and myself. One kid wanted toast. Can't get any easier than that, I think to myself. The other one wasn't hungry. I've seen this movie before. Where the mom gets upset as the daughter continues to say she's not hungry. And the more the mom insists that the little girl can't go to school on an empty stomach, the more upset the girl becomes. It always ends the same way with two people angry at each other. Not wanting to be the protagonist or antagonist, depending on perspective, I make a conscious decision that the girl will go to school on an empty stomach today if it means avoiding a conflict.
The boy gladly eats his toast making sure not to ingest any of the dreadful crust. He asks if he can have a yogurt and a glass of water. Happy, he plops down and watches the sports highlights from the night before while slurping his vanilla yogurt.
Shit, I forgot. Duke was playing a team with a bunch of white guys when sleep creeped into my head last night. Wondering who won, and forgetting about the stubborn little girl at the breakfast counter, I raced to the nearest chair to get a glimpse of the championship game. Duke won! The only person I know who likes Duke is Joel. Joel was a university friend who liked a lot of the same stuff I did in my early adulthood: sports, alcohol, girls, and raising a lot of shit. Joel and I borrowed a Burger King garbage can one drunken evening. Ripped it right off the pole it was chained to. Some said it was stolen but I returned it three years later. Joel is a university professor now at Eastern Kentucky I think. He must be so happy with his Duke Blue Devils this morning.....
"Can I have some cereal?", a quiet voice breaks my thoughts.
"Sure. Do you know what kind?"
"Frosted Flakes and Rice Krispies".
"Together?"
"Yeah, that's how mom makes them".
"Ok, sure, Frosted Flakes and Rice Krispies coming up".
The rest of the morning was uneventful. The kids went to the education factory to produce new thought synapses while I returned to my home office to work for the rest of the day.
At 3:20, the front door welcomed home two little factory workers. I had a conference call at 6 pm that was going to last 3 hours. With only two and half hours, supper had to be cooked, dishes washed, kids cleaned and changed, I didn't have a lot of time. Oh and then there was the homework. Our daughter is really good at doing her homework alone. But our son hates everything school related except physical education and recess. Homework is like ripping his eyes out. No, homework is like ripping my eyes out. It's that painful some nights. If this was gonna be one of those nights that I'd rather go blind for the rest of my life than live another moment of homework, there was no way I could get on the conference call on time.
Supper is another fight most nights. I have witnessed too many painful "idontlike" moments.
"I don't like mushrooms"
"I don't like tomatoes"
"I don't like onions"
"I don't like cheese"
You can pretty much insert any word after "I don't like" and it will have been relevant at some point in my house.
My parents would have said, don't eat it if you don't like it. But don't ask for anything else after supper. I've tried that angle with my kids before but our beloved Queen Hen has always food blocked me. With the Queen gone, I am in charge. If they pull this "idontlike" crap on me, I'm gonna use the same strategy my parents used. I'm willing to dig my feet in and fight to the death.
The death fight doesn't happen. They eat everything on their plate. They thank me for the great meal and they put their dishes on the counter next to the sink. I'm either getting Punk'd or they are as afraid of me as I am of them. They rush upstairs and take their showers singing their favourite songs. They both happily do their homework and ask if I can set their alarm for 6:45 am for tomorrow. Being early to school tomorrow means they get their bribe I promised them yesterday.
They were angels. They were ready for bed at 5:55 pm, which let me get on the conference call at 6 pm. With everything done, I let them watch TV and play on the iPad. When the conference call started, I warned everyone that I may have to step away at a moments notice if the kids acted up. Halfway through the call, someone asked me what I did to my kids to make them behave so well. Proud as I am, I know that this feeling could be fleeting as quickly as it entered my brain. I'm really not sure what I did to make them behave so well. I know I didn't bribe them on this one, but maybe they aren't the terrorists I've come to love.
Kids went to bed a bit late because the conference call went until 9 pm. Despite that, they still wanted me to set their alarm clocks for 6:45 am, which I gladly did. I walked down the lonely hall to my royal bedroom, minus its Queen, to read for an hour.
As the last words read started to flutter around my head like a butterfly on a breezy June morning, I laid down the book to fall asleep. Day two is in the books, only 13 more days to go...
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
Trading my fake job for my real job: Day 1
My wife left me!
She'll only be gone for 15 days, but she left me in charge while she's gone.
For the next 15 posts, I will capture my daily thoughts as a digital record. To see if I slip into an increasing degree of madness and to observe the conflict of a fulltime businessman turned fulltime dad.
Our son was one month old when I stepped into the entrepreneurial limelight. While I focused on the business, Aline made sure everything on the homefront was safe. She took care of all things kid related. Today I'm in charge. I have to put work on the backburner, making sure I'm home at 3pm every day to welcome my babies from their daily grind at the education factory.
I've been planning her trip for weeks. There's some food in the freezer that perpetually gets pushed to the back after each trip to the grocery store. There's a home renovation project I'd like to finish to surprise my bride upon her return.
I'm gonna stay realistic. There is only thing I will attempt to do for the next 15 days. To get through it without my children completely hating me. Aline has always been the calm parent, while I've been the warden. She's June Cleaver, while I'm Archie Bunker, minus the racism.
Day 1:
We didn't get much sleep last night. I carried Aline's suitcase to her taxi at 4am, while she kissed the kids goodbye. My son awoke and started bawling. I could see the pain in Aline's eyes as she slipped out the front door, pretending not to hear his pain.
Going upstairs to console our baby, I offered him a spot in my bed, which he took gladly. As we lay our heads down to sleep, our oldest awoke crying. Turns out, she had a nightmare. Offering her a spot in my bed cramped us together like sardines in that Queen sized bed. But everyone quickly fell asleep except me.
Three hours later, I wiggled out of the vice my children had placed me in. Good dads make breakfast, I thought to myself. I used to own a breakfast restaurant, so making pancakes for me is like making toast for less experienced fathers. Easy peesy, until my kids gave me the worst review a cook can ever receive. They didn't eat any. Now I have a batch of pancakes with no customers. There goes the good dad strategy.
Our next mission is to go shopping for toys. It didn't start out that way. Let me explain. I have a really important meeting on Wednesday. To get there on time means the kids have to get to school 15 minutes early. My kids are NEVER early. They don't know the definition of early. So I do what my inexperience tells me to do: I bribe them.
"If you can be ready 15 minutes early on Wednesday, I'll buy you a present".
"What kind of present? An Xbox 360?", asks the boy.
"No, a small present".
"Like a cellphone?"
"No, by small I mean inexpensive"
"You mean cheap!"
"No, I mean something that you wish you had, that doesn't cost a fortune."
"Like an Xbox 360. Ryan has one and it only costs 300 bucks."
"I want a pack of Shopkins", says our daughter.
"That's a great choice". At $12.99, I have my daughter cheaply bought off.
"So D'Angelo, what do you think?"
"There's a Montreal Canadiens sweater that I want..."
Having my kids focused on the prize, we start our voyage to the city. First stop is to get the sweater. The store where he saw it is going out of business, so we run in to buy the prize before another eager shopper grabs it. After searching for 20 minutes, overcome with grief, our son has to change the object of his affection for another prize. But what? Best way to fix this pain is bring them to the Mecca of kid stores: Toys 'R Us.
Our daughter runs to the girl section while our son rushes to the boy toys. Asking them to stay together so I can keep an eye on both of them, they tell me that their mom lets them go off on their own in this store. I get the feeling that they are playing me. My wife is a "mother hen". She would never leave them out of her sight in a public place like this.
After 20 minutes, our son emerges with a toy that costs $90. "Sorry, that's out of the budget. Go back and look for something in the $20 range." Our daughter becomes distraught as her beloved Shopkins have been sold out. She informs me there is another store in the mall that carries her favourite toy. Pulling the boy away from the dream of living in toyland, we venture to the other store to find they are also sold out.
Now I have two upset kids who I was trying to bribe but have yet to fulfill their end of an agreement on Wednesday. Empty handed, we walk back to the car with our shoulders hunched and our heads slightly cocked forward as we look at each step our feet make.
Thinking to myself, I have to change this attitude, I blurt out, "Who wants frozen yogurt?". Both kids looked up at me like I was a god. I think their feet may have left the ground slightly. They were once again pleased and I was the dad who brought them there.
Nothing cures the blues like frozen yogurt, candy and chocolate, even if it is only zero degrees celsius outside.
The rest of the day was a breeze. Kids ate their supper, without any problems. No real fighting today. I consider myself blessed. I'm not sure if they can keep up this good behaviour for 14 more days. Like a recovering addict, all I think to myself is "one day at a time".
After the kids went to sleep, I went downstairs to get some work done. I hadn't done any work all day so I was feeling a bit guilty. For a guy who likes to get to bed early, working until 11 pm is painful. I got the work done, and headed to bed. As I laid in my lonely bed, I turned the TV on to catch the last minutes of a hockey game. The final game of NCAA's March Madness was on. With everyone going on, I completely forgot about it. Second half had just started with perennial winners, Duke losing by 4 points to a Wisconsin team that had four white guys on the floor. In a sport where black guys dominated, it was odd to see so many white guys on the floor at the same time........................................................
She'll only be gone for 15 days, but she left me in charge while she's gone.
For the next 15 posts, I will capture my daily thoughts as a digital record. To see if I slip into an increasing degree of madness and to observe the conflict of a fulltime businessman turned fulltime dad.
Our son was one month old when I stepped into the entrepreneurial limelight. While I focused on the business, Aline made sure everything on the homefront was safe. She took care of all things kid related. Today I'm in charge. I have to put work on the backburner, making sure I'm home at 3pm every day to welcome my babies from their daily grind at the education factory.
I've been planning her trip for weeks. There's some food in the freezer that perpetually gets pushed to the back after each trip to the grocery store. There's a home renovation project I'd like to finish to surprise my bride upon her return.
I'm gonna stay realistic. There is only thing I will attempt to do for the next 15 days. To get through it without my children completely hating me. Aline has always been the calm parent, while I've been the warden. She's June Cleaver, while I'm Archie Bunker, minus the racism.
Day 1:
We didn't get much sleep last night. I carried Aline's suitcase to her taxi at 4am, while she kissed the kids goodbye. My son awoke and started bawling. I could see the pain in Aline's eyes as she slipped out the front door, pretending not to hear his pain.
Going upstairs to console our baby, I offered him a spot in my bed, which he took gladly. As we lay our heads down to sleep, our oldest awoke crying. Turns out, she had a nightmare. Offering her a spot in my bed cramped us together like sardines in that Queen sized bed. But everyone quickly fell asleep except me.
Three hours later, I wiggled out of the vice my children had placed me in. Good dads make breakfast, I thought to myself. I used to own a breakfast restaurant, so making pancakes for me is like making toast for less experienced fathers. Easy peesy, until my kids gave me the worst review a cook can ever receive. They didn't eat any. Now I have a batch of pancakes with no customers. There goes the good dad strategy.
Our next mission is to go shopping for toys. It didn't start out that way. Let me explain. I have a really important meeting on Wednesday. To get there on time means the kids have to get to school 15 minutes early. My kids are NEVER early. They don't know the definition of early. So I do what my inexperience tells me to do: I bribe them.
"If you can be ready 15 minutes early on Wednesday, I'll buy you a present".
"What kind of present? An Xbox 360?", asks the boy.
"No, a small present".
"Like a cellphone?"
"No, by small I mean inexpensive"
"You mean cheap!"
"No, I mean something that you wish you had, that doesn't cost a fortune."
"Like an Xbox 360. Ryan has one and it only costs 300 bucks."
"I want a pack of Shopkins", says our daughter.
"That's a great choice". At $12.99, I have my daughter cheaply bought off.
"So D'Angelo, what do you think?"
"There's a Montreal Canadiens sweater that I want..."
Having my kids focused on the prize, we start our voyage to the city. First stop is to get the sweater. The store where he saw it is going out of business, so we run in to buy the prize before another eager shopper grabs it. After searching for 20 minutes, overcome with grief, our son has to change the object of his affection for another prize. But what? Best way to fix this pain is bring them to the Mecca of kid stores: Toys 'R Us.
Our daughter runs to the girl section while our son rushes to the boy toys. Asking them to stay together so I can keep an eye on both of them, they tell me that their mom lets them go off on their own in this store. I get the feeling that they are playing me. My wife is a "mother hen". She would never leave them out of her sight in a public place like this.
After 20 minutes, our son emerges with a toy that costs $90. "Sorry, that's out of the budget. Go back and look for something in the $20 range." Our daughter becomes distraught as her beloved Shopkins have been sold out. She informs me there is another store in the mall that carries her favourite toy. Pulling the boy away from the dream of living in toyland, we venture to the other store to find they are also sold out.
Now I have two upset kids who I was trying to bribe but have yet to fulfill their end of an agreement on Wednesday. Empty handed, we walk back to the car with our shoulders hunched and our heads slightly cocked forward as we look at each step our feet make.
Thinking to myself, I have to change this attitude, I blurt out, "Who wants frozen yogurt?". Both kids looked up at me like I was a god. I think their feet may have left the ground slightly. They were once again pleased and I was the dad who brought them there.
Nothing cures the blues like frozen yogurt, candy and chocolate, even if it is only zero degrees celsius outside.
The rest of the day was a breeze. Kids ate their supper, without any problems. No real fighting today. I consider myself blessed. I'm not sure if they can keep up this good behaviour for 14 more days. Like a recovering addict, all I think to myself is "one day at a time".
After the kids went to sleep, I went downstairs to get some work done. I hadn't done any work all day so I was feeling a bit guilty. For a guy who likes to get to bed early, working until 11 pm is painful. I got the work done, and headed to bed. As I laid in my lonely bed, I turned the TV on to catch the last minutes of a hockey game. The final game of NCAA's March Madness was on. With everyone going on, I completely forgot about it. Second half had just started with perennial winners, Duke losing by 4 points to a Wisconsin team that had four white guys on the floor. In a sport where black guys dominated, it was odd to see so many white guys on the floor at the same time........................................................
Monday, April 6, 2015
5 biggest hiring mistakes made by managers
Ask almost anyone who's in business what is their biggest problem and the answer will undoubtedly be the same: Staff.
A reliable, honest, hard working employee will be a pleasure to work with. They are hard to find and are a true treasure when discovered. Workplace culture gets ruined for these treasures when a poor hire is made.
The five biggest hiring mistakes made by managers causes deep problems in the organization, including losing good employees, loss of productivity, eroding profit margins and destroying corporate culture. A good business starts with the right hire. Most agree that business is great when employees do what they are supposed to do, when they are supposed to do it, and how they are supposed to do it. .
Michael Gerber wrote in E-Myth Revisited that people don't fail, systems fail. The lack of defined systems creates an environment where employees cannot find success. I believe the hiring practices can be systemized just as easily to avoid the following mistakes.
First mistake
Most managers want a job done, so they describe the position in their advertising. They don't take the time to describe the person they want to hire. Describing competencies and experience is not describing the person.. What is the essence of the person you're looking for? In one advertisement, I described the new hire as a person who never used an alarm clock but always woke up before 7am. We were looking for someone who liked to sing in the shower and didn't care if the neighbors could hear them bellow the newest song by Justin Bieber because in the shower, it sounded like a live performance in front of 25,000 fans. I didn't get as many applicants but I didn't have to do 100 interviews either. The people that applied to the ad were the type of people I wanted to talk to.
Second mistake
Managers fail to plan for a new hire. I liked having someone in the "bullpen". In baseball, the bullpen is comprised of relief pitchers who can come in at a moment's notice if the current pitcher is starting to fail. My bullpen had people who wanted to work for me but were willing to wait for an opportunity. If a current employee would quit without notice, I had a replacement ready to go. Even if I didn't have a staffing need, we were constantly looking for new staff as a strategy to prevent dis-serving the customer.
Third mistake
The interview is not a well thought out systemized process. Most managers hire based on gut instinct. They will ask a series of questions regarding strengths, weaknesses, experience and background. Then based on those answers, they make a gut check and decide if the employee is right for the team. In more sophisticated hiring practices, hiring managers get the candidate to answer a series of tests to see competencies and if there is a fit emotionally with the team. Without the budget to put all the candidates through the testing, we identified the qualities we wanted in a perfect hire and then formulated questions to see if the candidate matched what we were looking for.
Question. "What kind of animal would you be in the jungle". Then followup with "Why".
Reason: To see someone think on their feet. To make a decision quickly without hesitation.
Question: "What kind of toy would you play with if you were a puppy"
Reason: Again, a second example of someone thinking on their feet. If they were stressed or nervous, or their body language became closed, I would end the interview.
Question: "Give me an example when you got upset at work"
Reason: To test facial expressions and body language. Does this person relive old stuff and has a hard time letting go of a past problem.
Question: "Has a manager ever asked you to do something that you thought was wrong" and "what did you do to correct the manager"
Reason: To see if this person is a disrupter or a vault? Does this person have enough confidence to express their opinions or do they have too much confidence bordering on arrogance.
Fourth mistake
Managers don't follow up on references or they rely on the wrong ones. Most candidates will only post positive references on the resume. Calling one of those references, a manager should expect a decent review. In the interview, a smart hiring manager will try to connect the dots of people they know in common. LinkedIn is an excellent resource today for seeing the commonalities. Sometimes a current employee will have worked with the candidate. Getting an accurate picture of work ethic and job competencies can come from the people already working in the organization. The only relevant question in the reference check is "If that person came back looking for a job, would you hire them again?".
Fifth mistake
Managers don't plan for training. In every job I ever had, I was thrown in and expected to learn the jobs on my own. It was sink or swim. In many businesses, the same exists. Managers are already busy. They have enough on their plates so taking the time to train a new hire is painful. To avoid this mistake develop a training program that gets shared on the first day of the new hire. They will know exactly what will happen over the following weeks. Give homework every evening, with a verbal and written test the next day. The employees that don't study the first night are usually poor hires. The ones who want to work with you will memorize the small homework and will ALWAYS be great employees, based on my experience. If a poor candidate gets through the first four obstacle courses without detection, the fifth obstacle will catch them on the second day. Don't waste any time and training money on the new hires who don't do their homework. Give the candidate one final chance to prove their worth the following day. If they are not serious about the job you've offered them, they will quit and you will be better for it immediately.
Too many hiring managers rely on "warm body" syndrome. There is a need in the business so we hire the first person who looks and acts reasonably well so life can get back to normal. It's usually better not to hire at all than to hire a warm body. In a shrinking labour market, it can be difficult to find the right person. No one's beating down your door to work for you. I get it. But a business is built one employee at a time. Find the right employee and then go find more of them one at a time.
A reliable, honest, hard working employee will be a pleasure to work with. They are hard to find and are a true treasure when discovered. Workplace culture gets ruined for these treasures when a poor hire is made.
The five biggest hiring mistakes made by managers causes deep problems in the organization, including losing good employees, loss of productivity, eroding profit margins and destroying corporate culture. A good business starts with the right hire. Most agree that business is great when employees do what they are supposed to do, when they are supposed to do it, and how they are supposed to do it. .
Michael Gerber wrote in E-Myth Revisited that people don't fail, systems fail. The lack of defined systems creates an environment where employees cannot find success. I believe the hiring practices can be systemized just as easily to avoid the following mistakes.
First mistake
Most managers want a job done, so they describe the position in their advertising. They don't take the time to describe the person they want to hire. Describing competencies and experience is not describing the person.. What is the essence of the person you're looking for? In one advertisement, I described the new hire as a person who never used an alarm clock but always woke up before 7am. We were looking for someone who liked to sing in the shower and didn't care if the neighbors could hear them bellow the newest song by Justin Bieber because in the shower, it sounded like a live performance in front of 25,000 fans. I didn't get as many applicants but I didn't have to do 100 interviews either. The people that applied to the ad were the type of people I wanted to talk to.
Second mistake
Managers fail to plan for a new hire. I liked having someone in the "bullpen". In baseball, the bullpen is comprised of relief pitchers who can come in at a moment's notice if the current pitcher is starting to fail. My bullpen had people who wanted to work for me but were willing to wait for an opportunity. If a current employee would quit without notice, I had a replacement ready to go. Even if I didn't have a staffing need, we were constantly looking for new staff as a strategy to prevent dis-serving the customer.
Third mistake
The interview is not a well thought out systemized process. Most managers hire based on gut instinct. They will ask a series of questions regarding strengths, weaknesses, experience and background. Then based on those answers, they make a gut check and decide if the employee is right for the team. In more sophisticated hiring practices, hiring managers get the candidate to answer a series of tests to see competencies and if there is a fit emotionally with the team. Without the budget to put all the candidates through the testing, we identified the qualities we wanted in a perfect hire and then formulated questions to see if the candidate matched what we were looking for.
Question. "What kind of animal would you be in the jungle". Then followup with "Why".
Reason: To see someone think on their feet. To make a decision quickly without hesitation.
Question: "What kind of toy would you play with if you were a puppy"
Reason: Again, a second example of someone thinking on their feet. If they were stressed or nervous, or their body language became closed, I would end the interview.
Question: "Give me an example when you got upset at work"
Reason: To test facial expressions and body language. Does this person relive old stuff and has a hard time letting go of a past problem.
Question: "Has a manager ever asked you to do something that you thought was wrong" and "what did you do to correct the manager"
Reason: To see if this person is a disrupter or a vault? Does this person have enough confidence to express their opinions or do they have too much confidence bordering on arrogance.
Fourth mistake
Managers don't follow up on references or they rely on the wrong ones. Most candidates will only post positive references on the resume. Calling one of those references, a manager should expect a decent review. In the interview, a smart hiring manager will try to connect the dots of people they know in common. LinkedIn is an excellent resource today for seeing the commonalities. Sometimes a current employee will have worked with the candidate. Getting an accurate picture of work ethic and job competencies can come from the people already working in the organization. The only relevant question in the reference check is "If that person came back looking for a job, would you hire them again?".
Fifth mistake
Managers don't plan for training. In every job I ever had, I was thrown in and expected to learn the jobs on my own. It was sink or swim. In many businesses, the same exists. Managers are already busy. They have enough on their plates so taking the time to train a new hire is painful. To avoid this mistake develop a training program that gets shared on the first day of the new hire. They will know exactly what will happen over the following weeks. Give homework every evening, with a verbal and written test the next day. The employees that don't study the first night are usually poor hires. The ones who want to work with you will memorize the small homework and will ALWAYS be great employees, based on my experience. If a poor candidate gets through the first four obstacle courses without detection, the fifth obstacle will catch them on the second day. Don't waste any time and training money on the new hires who don't do their homework. Give the candidate one final chance to prove their worth the following day. If they are not serious about the job you've offered them, they will quit and you will be better for it immediately.
Too many hiring managers rely on "warm body" syndrome. There is a need in the business so we hire the first person who looks and acts reasonably well so life can get back to normal. It's usually better not to hire at all than to hire a warm body. In a shrinking labour market, it can be difficult to find the right person. No one's beating down your door to work for you. I get it. But a business is built one employee at a time. Find the right employee and then go find more of them one at a time.
Friday, April 3, 2015
The battle between the irrational self versus the rational self
Did you know that most people make decisions based on emotion. Then they logical reverse rationalize why the purchase was necessary.
I've been criticized over the years for being too emotional. Emotions get me in trouble. But they also drive my passion. Emotions, whether negative or positive are irrational. On the negative side, a feeling wells up from the pit of my stomach, the heart skips a beat, my ears go deaf and I can no longer think from a logical perspective. I act like a five year old, with the only relief being to act out a temper tantrum. Seems ridiculous when I look back on each incident.
Emotion can be extremely positive when focused on creativity. People get attracted to my energy, my enthusiasm and my passion. It becomes magnetic. The thoughts attract other inputs, other energies and other ideas. I get excited and afraid at the same time. Excitement drives me to push the ideas forward. Fear drives me to push them faster.
People who are predominantly using their right brains are the creative people of the world. They use the irrational and emotional constructs to perform their art. Those of us who predominantly use the left brains are the logical people. They are the mathematicians, the scientists and the analysts.
I play both sides of the fence. I love numbers. My favourite subjects in school were mathematics and science. My first job was in finance. My second job was in marketing, a highly creative field.
Marketers and financial people don't get along so well. Bean counters tend to squash the creative ideas in favour of budget. That is the battle that goes on in my head everyday.
My biggest strength is also my biggest weakness.
In a previous business, I had what seemed to be an unresolvable conflict with a colleague. Every time I had to talk to the colleague, I wanted the conversation to end before it began. I became dead inside, lacking all emotion until he left. My ideas were discounted. My passion was squashed. I was told there was no room for creativity in my job. The result caused a emotional tumour inside of me. Each conversation grew the tumour. Until one day, the tumour couldn't take anymore and burst. I exploded. I lost it. Between the build up frustrations, the inability to express myself and perceived injustices, I had become an emotional cancer.
I was driving yesterday, thinking about past mistakes and how they affect the life I live today.
I took a test once to measure my emotional IQ and I failed.
Just kidding. I found out that I'm average. I'm not a stone faced, matter of fact, nothing phases me brick wall. I'm more of the guy that wears his emotion on his sleeve.
It's not a good thing or a bad thing. It's just something I have to understand so I can live with myself...
I've been criticized over the years for being too emotional. Emotions get me in trouble. But they also drive my passion. Emotions, whether negative or positive are irrational. On the negative side, a feeling wells up from the pit of my stomach, the heart skips a beat, my ears go deaf and I can no longer think from a logical perspective. I act like a five year old, with the only relief being to act out a temper tantrum. Seems ridiculous when I look back on each incident.
Emotion can be extremely positive when focused on creativity. People get attracted to my energy, my enthusiasm and my passion. It becomes magnetic. The thoughts attract other inputs, other energies and other ideas. I get excited and afraid at the same time. Excitement drives me to push the ideas forward. Fear drives me to push them faster.
People who are predominantly using their right brains are the creative people of the world. They use the irrational and emotional constructs to perform their art. Those of us who predominantly use the left brains are the logical people. They are the mathematicians, the scientists and the analysts.
I play both sides of the fence. I love numbers. My favourite subjects in school were mathematics and science. My first job was in finance. My second job was in marketing, a highly creative field.
Marketers and financial people don't get along so well. Bean counters tend to squash the creative ideas in favour of budget. That is the battle that goes on in my head everyday.
My biggest strength is also my biggest weakness.
In a previous business, I had what seemed to be an unresolvable conflict with a colleague. Every time I had to talk to the colleague, I wanted the conversation to end before it began. I became dead inside, lacking all emotion until he left. My ideas were discounted. My passion was squashed. I was told there was no room for creativity in my job. The result caused a emotional tumour inside of me. Each conversation grew the tumour. Until one day, the tumour couldn't take anymore and burst. I exploded. I lost it. Between the build up frustrations, the inability to express myself and perceived injustices, I had become an emotional cancer.
I was driving yesterday, thinking about past mistakes and how they affect the life I live today.
I took a test once to measure my emotional IQ and I failed.
Just kidding. I found out that I'm average. I'm not a stone faced, matter of fact, nothing phases me brick wall. I'm more of the guy that wears his emotion on his sleeve.
It's not a good thing or a bad thing. It's just something I have to understand so I can live with myself...
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Objects in mirror may be closer than they appear
Anyone who has driven a North American car newer than 1985, meaning unless you live in the hills without running water and copper wires in the wall, knows that the passenger side mirror of an automobile has a little disclaimer about objects being closer than they appear.
Did you ever wonder why the car manufacturers do that? Is the right side mirror less important than the driver's side? What research was done that rationalizes objects to be smaller and further away? Doesn't it make sense to see objects in the rear view mirror at the right distance our eyes are used to seeing them.
Here's the answer. A convex mirror, which is a fancy way for saying curved outwardly, gives a larger field of view to eliminate blind spots on the passenger side. The planar mirror, a flat mirror, doesn't get the advantage of the passenger side.
I remember driving to Montreal in 1996 in a Honda Civic 2 door Coupe. On approach to the big city, the traffic got heavy and stressful for this young hic. I could've used those convex mirrors on the driver's side as I pulled directly onto no less than four different cars trying to pass me on the AutoRoute. Horns a blazing, I felt lucky having escaped disaster, but at the same time, I learned of the driver side blindspot that no one taught me in driver's education.
The mirror thought popped into my brain this morning while having breakfast at a truck stop.
There was a promotional piece on the table showing a picture of a new menu item. The plate looked appetizing but I was shocked at the wimp-ical, ball-less, stand for nothing attitude of the words directly beneath the picture
"Actual plate may look different from the picture."
Are you kidding me? Putting a picture of a product on a menu is a promise. The owner is promising to the client that the ordered product will look almost exactly like the picture. If the product comes out and it looks less appetizing than the picture, does anyone believe that a stupid, legal disclaimer is enough to discredit a customer's expectation?
The simple answer is make your plates look exactly like the picture. No choices, no options.
This well known truck stop has systems to deliver consistent product. If the employees can't make the product look like the picture, may be it's time to remove pictures from the communications.
Not wanting to be oversold and underdelivered, I ordered something different. There was also a picture of it on the menu. And as expected, the product delivered was not representative of that picture either.
The strategy of placing pictures in any business marketing material is to promote the actual products and services offered for sale. Pictures are not just for restaurant menus. If you can't deliver exactly what the pictures say, don't put pictures on your marketing material.
A marketing piece without pretty pics can be boring. But a marketing piece with lies says your dishonest.
What your preference: To be seen as boring or to be seen as a liar?
Did you ever wonder why the car manufacturers do that? Is the right side mirror less important than the driver's side? What research was done that rationalizes objects to be smaller and further away? Doesn't it make sense to see objects in the rear view mirror at the right distance our eyes are used to seeing them.
Here's the answer. A convex mirror, which is a fancy way for saying curved outwardly, gives a larger field of view to eliminate blind spots on the passenger side. The planar mirror, a flat mirror, doesn't get the advantage of the passenger side.
I remember driving to Montreal in 1996 in a Honda Civic 2 door Coupe. On approach to the big city, the traffic got heavy and stressful for this young hic. I could've used those convex mirrors on the driver's side as I pulled directly onto no less than four different cars trying to pass me on the AutoRoute. Horns a blazing, I felt lucky having escaped disaster, but at the same time, I learned of the driver side blindspot that no one taught me in driver's education.
The mirror thought popped into my brain this morning while having breakfast at a truck stop.
There was a promotional piece on the table showing a picture of a new menu item. The plate looked appetizing but I was shocked at the wimp-ical, ball-less, stand for nothing attitude of the words directly beneath the picture
"Actual plate may look different from the picture."
Are you kidding me? Putting a picture of a product on a menu is a promise. The owner is promising to the client that the ordered product will look almost exactly like the picture. If the product comes out and it looks less appetizing than the picture, does anyone believe that a stupid, legal disclaimer is enough to discredit a customer's expectation?
The simple answer is make your plates look exactly like the picture. No choices, no options.
This well known truck stop has systems to deliver consistent product. If the employees can't make the product look like the picture, may be it's time to remove pictures from the communications.
Not wanting to be oversold and underdelivered, I ordered something different. There was also a picture of it on the menu. And as expected, the product delivered was not representative of that picture either.
The strategy of placing pictures in any business marketing material is to promote the actual products and services offered for sale. Pictures are not just for restaurant menus. If you can't deliver exactly what the pictures say, don't put pictures on your marketing material.
A marketing piece without pretty pics can be boring. But a marketing piece with lies says your dishonest.
What your preference: To be seen as boring or to be seen as a liar?
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